You Sold it for What?

Garage sale day! Here we are, purging are belongings by putting them out on the side of the road in the hopes someone will want to pay money for our junk. Initially, getting Chris to focus on finding things to sell seemed near impossible. But he got up early in the morning to help me lug all my things out to the road and drive me around to put up signs. Of course there were people arriving way before the posted time, I had placed ads, and we were still trying to set things up. Even before we begin, Chris is practically giving things away.

I have learned from my friend Dawn that it is best not to put prices on things but just come up with a price on the day. I did not realize this was going to mean my husband would try to sell everything I own for a quarter. I say that but it seems like he has two internal price points. It is either 20 dollars or 25 cents. I am not sure where the logic comes in with that, but it was how it was.

Things are going well, things are selling it is moving along. But as Chris watches things he thought would never sell make a bit of money, he suddenly decides to start going through his things, you know, the thing I asked him to do three weeks ago? Now instead of having someone outside to help me, he is constantly in the house digging for more things to sell. fine, I can handle it until I see him drag out the chair his grandfather carved by hand.

"You're bringing that out just to sit on, right?" I say as a leading question as to imply the appropriate response.

"I was just going to see what someone offered for it."

"Then take it back in."

"Why can't we see? It isn't very comfortable."

"We can get new cushions. I cannot get a new husband after your father kills you because we are supposed to be taking care of that chair. If you don't want it in our new place, then I suggest you give it back to you father, cause we aren't selling it." How am I more sentimental about a chair made by a man who died before I was in the picture?

"We can just try. You are selling the ornaments."

That's his defense? Seriously? The ornaments he was referring to were my ex-boyfriend's Christmas ornaments. We had stayed friends for quite awhile but then we lost touch. I had tried to contact the man a number of times to return his ornaments. A collection of Christmas Tree bobbles from the year of his birth onward. It wasn't my fault he wouldn't return phone calls. After many years of storing them, I decided I wasn't moving them so I put them out in the hopes they found a good home.

"Not the same. I no longer know Toby, you still know father, you like your father. You call your dad and get permission and then you can try." This is followed by an eye roll and the phone being whipped out to place the call. At which time he discovered I was correct and his father would rather have the chair back than have us sell it to some stranger. Like that took a rocket scientist to figure out! I have now been guilted into putting the ornaments back on our doorstep because I was feeling guilty about selling them. I still didn't want to move them! What a waste of space.

As the garage sale begins to wind down, I start selling everything for a quarter. We get rid of almost everything, or so I think. Most of the end things went to a guy who was shopping but driving a motorcycle. With a bit of help from lots of duct tape we managed to get everything attached to his saddlebags, frame, and back pack. I am not sure what he was going to do with all that junk, but as he drove off I found myself very concerned with whether or not he could even turn a corner.

We start loading the truck with everything to go to Goodwill and I realize I still have a ton of stuff left. If I had the energy I might have a second sale the next day, but it doesn't seem worth it. There is one wicker basket left out front that some lady is supposed to come back for, so we bring down the driveway and put it on our step. Needless to say, she doesn't come back, but surprisingly the next morning Chris walks out to find 2 women shoving it in their car. He confronts the offenders with the fact they are "stealing" and they claim to have thought it was "junk." I might believe that if it was still sitting on the street, but it was on our doorstep and we live in the back apartment. Do you go and take things off people's doorsteps? At that point I realized all the Christmas ornaments I was trying to figure out what to do with were gone. Someone had literally stolen Christmas from our front door. I ended up selling the wicker basket to the thieves and counting my blessings that the Christmas ornaments had sorted themselves out. If Toby ever calls I can honestly say they were stolen though I am not sure he would believe it even though it is true.